Memory Lane
by ADBeatty
Summary: This story is set around the middle of season two on Hershel's farm. The group is still reeling from the loss of Sophia and Carl is almost fully recuperated. Shane is confronting Dale, remembering times past, and shortly thereafter meets a new character.
1. Chapter 1

_ Memory Lane_

Shane threw Dale one last disdainful glare before turning around to find a quiet place among Hershel's fields. That old man kept sticking his nose where it didn't belong! Shane's mind wandered back to Dale and the swamp. His thoughts became an angry torrent.

"If that's the kind of man you think I am, what do you figure I'd do to someone I don't much like?" Shane had uttered, malice running wild in his eyes. "You won't like what happens next, you keep this bullshit up." In a less sinister tone but no less serious, he'd commanded, "Now gimme those guns." The ex-deputy had made sure there was no compromise to be found in his face during the ensuing minutes.

As Shane walked with the bag of guns slung over his shoulder, the sun reached its zenith. At last he came to a tree atop a small grassy mound; out of view from the old man and anyone else who would deign to bother him. He sat against the rough trunk with the guns beside him. From his seat the gently sloping ground afforded him a distant view of the camp.

Shane could make out Lori walking among the tents with a basket of laundry in her arms. She disappeared inside the tent she shared with Carl and _Rick_. Shane knotted his jaw and spat on the grass beside him. He could still remember when women would throw themselves at him for less than what he had done for Lori! Shane had saved her goddamned life! And her son's! But as soon as Rick had come back from the dead she'd thrown Shane away like yesterday's garbage. For a moment, red was the only color in the world. Shane relaxed suddenly, leaning back against the tree. _Yeah_, he thought, _I remember when I'd throw women away like_ _that._Maybe it was karma. He laughed.

He was back in his home, before the world had started eating itself to shit. Back when things were good.  
Shane and the woman stumbled out of the shower together. She laughed like a giddy girl after her first beer. Shane didn't care much for that but she was good for other things. Otherwise, he never would have gone on the second "date."

Wet skin glistened in the soft yellow glow of Shane's bathroom light. She slipped seamlessly down to her knees to put her lips around him. Shane gripped the edge of the counter to steady himself and slowly entangled his other hand in her hair.

Shane could still remember the sensation that had come over his body. How he moved rhythmically to the bobbing of her mouth, accentuating each stroke of it with a jerk of his hand in her hair.

Her soft lips and teasing teeth got Shane off like a pro. His knuckles whitened as he squeezed the counter. Then slowly his grip loosened.

In a jagged breath Shane, voice cracking, whispered, "Hold up, girl. Take it down slow."

When Shane opened his eyes he looked down to see his hand down the front of his pants. He slowly pulled his hand away, letting a sigh escape his lips from the aftershocks that resulted.

"Now that's one way to greet someone," called up a girl with a perky southern drawl.

Shane's eyes flew to find the voice whilst hastily wiping his hand across the grass.

"Sorry, didn't mean to spoil your alone time," she went on.

Shane looked up at her sharply. "Who the hell are you?"

"Name's Daisy."

He looked down at her soiled white sneakers, up to the bow slung across her shoulder and lastly to the straw hat on top of her pretty little head.

"What you doin' out here?" he asked, rising to his feet.

"Same thang e'eryone is doin'; survivin'." Before he could say anything else she continued, "We can finish the pleasantries later, when I tell you and your people the rest o' my story." Daisy gave a curt nod of her head and simultaneously went to tip her hat. But as soon as her hand had went up, Shane's had brought pistol to bare.

"Whoa, easy boy!" she called softly, lowering her hand.

His eyes never left hers as he holstered the gun. "How'd you find us?" Suspicion dripped from his every word.

"I don' got time to explain it twice. Take me to your people and make 'em help me. I always return a favor."  
Shane brought his hands together, lacing his fingers. His eyes were cold and mocking as he spoke, "I don' need favors from the likes of strangers. You ain't got nothin' to offer me." His deep drawl lowered, "Now get yourself outta here before I decide you're a threat to my people."

A sly smile spread across her rosy lips. "Are you sure 'bout that? I can make the Tug and Palm show obsolete." Her big hazel eyes went directly to his unbuckled belt.

After a moment of silence her confidence, if ever she'd had any, began to dissipate until Shane said, "You're offering to sleep with me if I help you save who? Your ma and pa? Somehow I don' think they're gonna like that."

Daisy's mouth curved into a grim smile. "Who said they were my parents?"

After Shane had made himself decent and disarmed Daisy, he had taken her to Rick. Everyone had watched with silent eyes as he had prodded her back in the right direction. Now she was cuffed to an old grate heater in Hershel's bedroom as Rick gathered the others in the main room.

"Before the questions start, I don't know anything about this girl," Rick explained while patting down the first assault of questions in the air. "All I know is she came to Shane, without threat, and is asking for help. We can all guess as to what that means," he said solemnly.

"How exactly, may I ask, are you going to handle this?" Hershel asked.

All eyes went to Rick. "We're all going to listen to what she has to say, ask questions and then decide amongst ourselves what to do. Within reason," he added. Then he called, "Shane, bring her in if you would."

There was a moment of shuffling and then Shane appeared, guiding a young woman to the center of the room.

A flutter of voices rose and fell as Rick said, "Your story now, Miss."


	2. Chapter 2

"How much ammo you got?" Daisy asked her seventeen year old brother, slightly out of breath.

"Never enough," he answered. Heath whirled around to face the nearest undead and promptly brought his knife down into its skull with a fluid movement. It made a wet sucking sound as he wrenched it out.

"Tam, is it clear up ahead?" Daisy managed to ask as she spun, letting loose another arrow in a half-rotted face. She was already notching the next arrow when Tammy called back, "So far, so good!" Her eleven year old sister had never sounded so mature.

"On the left!" called out Jared. He was three years Tammy's senior. Jared shot a muted bullet through the eye of a boy just his age.

The four of them ran through the woods in an ever shifting diamond, taking out walkers who got too close and blowing holes in the ones that stood in their path. Together the four siblings had spear headed their way North of Manchester, Georgia; through woods, fields and walking corpses. They had come in sight of abandoned barns and hold-fasts, but there was a reason the living had left the buildings behind. The undead were everywhere. It had been days of non-stop running, fighting and hiding in plain sight. The four were exhausted by the time they finally broke through the wood to the highway, the light packs they each carried seeming more and more a burden.

"A gas station," Jared pointed out. "We need to wait 'em out."

"We can't go in there like this. They're too close on our heels. Lead 'em right to us," Daisy objected. A walker rose from the concrete and waddled toward them on crooked feet.

"We're ahead now but not for much longer," Heath added as he walked up to it and put his knife through its eye.

"Gut it. Cover our scent with the blood."

Daisy nodded. "Do it."

Heath dragged the blade across its stomach. On cue everyone wrapped themselves with entrails or splashed themselves with black-red gore. The two boys each grabbed a leg and dragged the foul body behind them, covering their scent as they hurried to the station alongside the once busy road. Daisy went ahead and checked the gas station. Tammy stayed by the main door, watching the tree line for movement.

"Clear," Daisy hissed. She stood inside the door frame, ushering in the younger children. First Heath, double-checking for hidden surprises, followed by Tam and Jared and lastly Daisy who shut and barred the door. Quickly and quietly Jared helped her slide an empty freezer in front of the entrance. In the back, away from the hastily boarded windows and the first of their pursuers, Heath found the main storage room; thick concrete walls and a metal door with a latch.

"Grab what you can find, then inside " ordered Daisy. "Stay clear of the windows too. Ain't secured too well."

They each crouched between the aisles, silently snatching bottled liquids and crackers. A shadow fell across the front window accompanied by muffled groans. An uncontrollable shiver ran down Daisy's back. It was unnerving to think of how feeble their defenses were; a splash of zombie guts and boarded glass.

"To the back," she whispered. "C'mon, Tam."

Daisy held the back door open for the others. She walked left down the short hall to the storage room, where Heath held open the second, heavier door. She was about to step inside when a soft shuffle stole her attention.

"What is it?" Heath asked when she paused.

She turned to him. "I thought-" A walker stole the words from her mouth as it launched itself at her. Daisy didn't even manage a startled cry before the undead man opened his mouth to bite her shoulder.

The bullet rent the air while spattering the walker's brain on the wall. Stunned eyes looked to Tammy holding the revolver.

"You idiot," Jared croaked. Dread spread across Heath's face as realization brought tears to Tammy's.

"Inside, now," Daisy heard herself say at the precise moment the first window broke. The dull thud of wood crashing to the floor made her shake herself. "Hurry, we don' got time! In and hide!" Daisy shoved her brother inside with the other two as she flung the bow across her back and brought out the sawed off shotgun tied at her hip. In an instant she let off a round in a growling woman's face. In the next she was straining the muscles in her left arm as she slammed the thick door in Heath's face.

The narrow hallway looked that much smaller as another walker entered, cocking it's scraggly head to the side when its eyes met living flesh. Then it charged into Daisy's second shot. It's head splitting as surely as Daisy's ears. She let out her pent up breath as she reloaded, backing up. A sudden break of wood and glass sent a mob of feral groans and reckless feet stomping her way. Daisy let off another round, making sure the walkers saw her before bolting out the emergency exit behind her.

Gravel crunched underfoot and for a moment Daisy felt unbalanced with the shotgun in her hands instead of at her hip. She recovered, reaching for the last of the shells in her pocket. Daisy turned around to pump two more shots into the nearest of the undead. When she whirled back around there was a horde of walkers approaching her from the front. Using her momentum, she smashed the butt end of her weapon into a rotted temple. A spray of blood decorated her. She let go of the shotgun and brought out her bow. Having no choice, Daisy ran back into the woods. The familiar touch of the bow eased the knot in her stomach. Daisy felt even better once it was strung.

"Lets play boys and gals!" she yelled, whipping her spine erect and loosing three consecutive shots. It was a game she did not know she could win, but play she did. The forest floor seemed to betray her as twigs snapped beneath her weight. Each sound spurring on the pursuit. Daisy ran from the walkers chasing her and dropped the ones closing in from the front and either flank. She practiced this routine until her throat tasted of rusted blood and the moans of the dead faded.

Daisy stopped only once to catch her breath and gut a walker. She wore its intestines like a morbid scarf. She had just finished donning her new garb when a dazed and hungry walker broke through the surrounding brush. His dull eyes lingered on Daisy where once he had smelled a living person. Not wanting to waste another arrow Daisy picked up a broken branch, took the back of the walker's head in hand and stabbed it through an empty eye socket, piercing the curdled brain. She watched with cold eyes as it fell.

How long and how far she had run, Daisy couldn't say. Her limbs ached and her mouth was as dry as parchment. The ground underfoot was soft and hinted at water nearby. She could smell the stagnant scent of swamp water and mud. The weary young woman mustered her energy and ran in the direction of the smell, assured by its growing intensity. She broke through thin trees and didn't stop moving until she was knee deep in water and her legs buckled. She yanked off her putrid necklace and tossed it to the muddy bank. Then against caution she drank her fill. After she no longer felt her like her throat was a dry wasteland, Daisy slowly washed her skin of zombie stench and sweat.

The sun was beginning its descent as Daisy scrubbed her sodden clothes and changed into fresh shorts and a cotton shirt. She sighed as she looked into the sky. Hungry but with no time to hunt, she threw her clothes over a branch to dry along with her shoes, laces tied together. Next, the girl tied the intestines she'd been wearing all day to the tree trunk, hoping that if a walker happened by the smell would confuse it. Lastly, Daisy climbed up into the higher branches with her bow and quiver to watch the sun disappear and rest before making her way back to the gas station come the dawn.

A shaft of sunlight made its way through the leaves to fall across Daisy's eyes. She cursed herself when she woke, realizing that it was almost noon already. She was about to scramble down the tree but a sharp snap held her in place. Daisy spotted the source and relaxed, somewhat. It wasn't a walker but something just as dangerous if not more so. At least the _living_ man was old. A sudden longing took her by surprise. Maybe there were other people with him! But that could be a curse as easily as a blessing. She took a deep breath to settle the butterflies in her stomach. Daisy was about to drop down to approach the man, having decided he didn't seem like a threat or at least one she couldn't handle, but the next man changed her mind completely. His voice was gruff and sharp. It didn't take long for Daisy to see the rocky dynamic between the two. In the end, the younger one won and took the sheriff duffel that the other had been carrying. The old man with the white hair and beard stood still for a moment, rooted in place. She could have approached him then, but she didn't. If she wanted help from this group of people, for she had to assume there were others, she would have to crack the hardest egg first.

After the man had gone, Daisy gathered her things and climbed down from her perch. The younger, harder man had gone north-east from her position so that's where she went too. It wasn't far from the swamp that the woods ended and a field opened up before her. She spotted a figure sitting on a small bluff and she crouched down, but he wasn't looking in her direction, in fact he was hardly visible behind the tree he was propped against. Daisy tied her hair back and grabbed her straw hat from her pack. She took two quick deep breaths and put a smile on her face. _Always make a good first impression_, her mother used to say to her.

She crept up to the preoccupied man and said, "Now that's one way to greet someone."


	3. Chapter 3

Everyone was quiet as Daisy divulged the events that had led her to their camp. The mention of the eleven year old sister had immediately put the group at odds, though they could all feel for the girl and her family. A few questions were asked of Daisy; how many walkers were in the area, how far the gas station was, if her siblings would wait there for her return and how long would they wait? When the answers were given and no questions remained, Daisy made one last simple statement, "I'd appreciate any help y'all have to offer, even if this is as much as I get. Thank you." She was then escorted back to the other room. The debate whether to help her or not started as soon as she stepped out.

Shane spoke above them all, "We can't risk our own people for strangers. I know we all got Sophia on our minds but this ain't the way to get 'er back."

"I think we owe our young protection against this plague," Hershel declared. "If we stop helping each other we are no better than animals."

"He's right!" Dale concurred.

Shane threw them both a glare. "That's all fine and dandy, but are you two gonna be the ones risking your skin?" Shane barked.

"Even if we are the only ones who do," Hershel replied coldly. Their eyes locked together.

Rick broke the tension by presenting a compromise. "We can at least do them the courtesy of scoping out the station before passing judgement. We have Dale's binoculars," Rick pointed out.

"By the time we get close enough," Shane objected, "to scope this place out, it may be too late to turn back. An' what the hell we gonna tell the girl if we do decide it's too dangerous? _Sorry, can't save 'em. Too many walkers._ Somehow I don't think Miss Daisy would take it too well."

"We could leave her here, make it a condition," Andrea suggested.

"How would we find the station without her?" Lori asked.

"Get her a map. Make her put us in the right direction. Plus we got Daryl. I'm sure her path will be clear enough for him to follow," Rick said.

During it all Daryl had stayed unusually quiet, even for him, until finally he cursed aloud, "Fuck. If any of y'all have to think about this; fuck you." His outburst was punctuated by his customary scowl; a derisive up and down flick of his eyes. It was as if he was taking in all of your being and then spitting it back out with distaste etched on his features. Daryl turned and walked out. He was going for the kids, support or no. Sophia wouldn't leave his mind until he did. Besides, he could still hear Merle's mocking voice saying he couldn't do it; couldn't find the strength to climb the ravine. He had, but he would do this too.

After Daryl stormed out, things came down to a personal choice. "Go if you want to. Stay if you don't," Rick announced. "Everyone has the right to do as they choose, but I tell you to think about the camp as a whole too."

Shane snorted. "Yeah, the overall safety of our group should count for somethin' after-all." To Shane the whole meant everything, because it meant the safety of Lori and Carl as well.

"It's a choice," Rick said with faux calm, trying in vain to not let Shane's constant challenges irk him. "Everybody gets to choose for themselves what they're gonna do. We each have to live with our decisions, whatever they may be. It's a choice," he reiterated.

"Feels more like a vote I'm gonna lose," Shane said in an undertone.

"I'm going."

Rick looked to the doorway where Carl had spoken.

"Carl-" Lori began, reaching for her son.

"Dad just said everyone gets to choose! I choose to go," Carl interrupted, brushing aside her hand.

"I'm goin', Carl. Don't you worry," Shane spoke up, hoping to diffuse the boy's spontaneous gusto.

"Good. I'll be your wing-man then."

"Carl," Rick began, looking to Lori as he knelt before him, "I'm goin' after them too. I promise I'll do all I can for these kids."

It was a tenuous moment before Carl replied, "For Sophia?"

"For Sophia," Rick agreed. "But I need you to stay here to look after your mom and keep her safe."

Carl nodded. "Alright." He turned away from his dad as he asked, "Shane?"

"Yeah, bud?"

"Are you really going too?"

"'Course." Shane crouched down, taking Rick's place as he stood. "I can't just let your dad go off without me. I'm his wing-man, right?"

"Okay." The boy returned Shane's warm smile, assured by his response.

"Now you be a good man and take care of your ma for him." Shane clapped Carl on the shoulder and sent him off.

"So that's three of us," Rick announced.

"I'm in," Glen said.

"I'm all for it," Dale said.

Hershel spoke next, "As am I."

"I'll go too if you could use me," Andrea put in.

"I'd slow you down, but I can help with the preparations," Carol added.

"Good a cause as any to risk your life," T-dog proclaimed. Maggie and Lori nodded their assent, making it a unanimous decision.

"Okay, this makes things a lot easier. Now all's we have to do is come up with a plan," stated Rick.

"I'll get Daryl," Carol offered.

"And I guess I ought to get Daisy," Shane said in a half growl. "Tell 'er the good news."


	4. Chapter 4

At the break of day, a group made up of Rick, Shane, Daryl, Daisy, Andrea, Glen and T-dog, gathered up their supplies for the rescue. Rick had chosen the people he thought best suited for the mission, except Daisy. When Rick had suggested that she stay behind after mapping out the station, Daisy had adamantly refused.

"Alright," Rick had said, "but if you come with us, you gotta listen to me. Do you understand that? I won't let you put anyone in danger out there. And you gotta remember that if the area is too congested with walkers, you're on your own." He didn't like how the words tasted in his mouth, but this was Rick's best offer.

"I know my sister and brothers are still there, so if y'all decide take off once we get out there, that's fine with me. I woulda been headin' back already had I not found you. All by myself, however many walkers in my way. Even if it meant my life. And that still holds," Daisy had told Rick and the others.

To that Daryl had said, " I ain't no pussy. I'll have your back, Daisy Duke."

Daisy nodded her thanks and no one else bothered with any counter-arguments as they loaded themselves into the truck. T-dog was at the wheel of the old pick-up with Daisy in the bucket seat and Rick riding shotgun. The others rode in the bed. "Gonna get nice and cozy back here if we find those kids," Shane remarked to them. Daryl's lips quirked up at the corner. "Can always sit on each others laps," he suggested.

After about a half-hour, T-dog pulled onto the highway Daisy had named and drove until they were a mile out from where she had placed the station on their map. Shane and Rick had agreed that it would be best to walk the rest of the way there to avoid drawing unwanted attention and get a feel of how dangerous the area; they would turn back at any red flags.

"T, you wait here no longer than noon and if there's trouble here, I trust you to do what's best. Alright?" Rick said. T-dog was to stay with the truck and have it ready for a speedy get-away if the others came back with pursuit.

"I got it. Third time you told me," T-dog replied.

At that moment, Shane hopped out of the truck bed and came around to the passenger window. "Don't neither of you worry," he said, patting the side of the truck. "If Miss Daisy, here, made it through on her lonesome, then our group should do just fine."

"Exactly," Daryl agreed, coming around the side of the vehicle. "I don't mean to be upstaged by a girl-scout, either."

"Are we going to talk all day, ladies? Or are we going to get a move on?" asked Andrea.

Rick ordered, "Grab what you need and lets go."

They walked a quarter mile down the road then took to the woods with Daryl at point. This way they would be better able to flank the station which was surrounded on three sides by trees. During the entire trek, Daisy was not sure if the lack of walkers was a good sign or a bad one. _What if they ain't_ _around because they're too busy hunting my family?_ Daisy had to push such thoughts from her mind, else wise she might flat out run leaving the others in her wake. And that was surely one of the reasons why Rick had wanted to leave her behind; desperate people were unpredictable. But she wasn't desperate...not yet.

Just as Daisy was thinking about how much she wanted to pick up the pace, Daryl held up a fist, signaling for the group to halt and remain silent. Rick slowly crept past Daisy to stand by Daryl.

"What is it?" Rick asked in a hush.

"Heard somethin'."

"No shit, genius," Shane hissed. "Maybe be more specific?"

Daryl ignored him. He slowly approached a tight knit of trees with his crossbow at the ready. "I think we got a friend playing hide-and-seek," Daryl said softly. On cue, a walker dragged it's torso out from the boughs. The rest of it was nowhere to be seen as its dead eyes locked onto Daryl. As he was about to send the walker to its final death, Daisy's arrow whistled past him to sink within its forehead. The walker's head dropped to the dirt like a bowling ball.

"More like target practice," Daisy remarked. She walked over to it and wiggled the arrow out of the soft rot of flesh, inspecting it for future re-use. Daisy gave it a little shake, sending a piece of brain-matter flying through the air. "Good enough," she mumbled to herself.

Daisy looked over at the others who were watching her closely. "What are we waitin' for?" she asked.

Daryl responded, "You stole my kill."

She shrugged. "Wasn't much of a kill."

The group continued on, more alert for walker activity. Shortly after, they came across three more walkers bent over a deer, ripping at its meat with abandon. It took less than a minute for the group to silently dispatch them.

Shane narrowed his eyes as he stated, "I think we're getting close."

"I can sprint ahead, see if the station's near," Glen offered.

"No," Rick objected. He looked around at their surroundings. "Can you climb?"

Glen smiled, "Yeah."

"Good. Take these," Rick said while tossing him Dale's binoculars.

Glen shucked his light pack, threw the binoculars around his neck and took off up the tree. He climbed until the branches thinned and bent precariously under his weight. Once he could see above the treeline he brought the binoculars to his eyes. He could partially see the white of what must have been the gas station, as well as the highway sprawling in front of it. Glen searched for movement, but saw nothing. With that he made his way back to the ground.

"It's clear as far as I can see," Glen announced. "I saw a bus across from the station. Might be a good place for a sniper." He nodded his head toward Andrea and her sniper rifle.

"Yeah, I could provide cover from that vantage."

"I don't wanna spread us too thin," said Rick.

"It's more dead than a walker 'round here," pointed out Daryl.

Andrea spoke up, "I'll be fine. I can take care of myself if need be."

"Maybe someone ought to go with you as a precaution," Rick suggested.

"No one else's weapon has my range. Whoever you send with me would be useless if you need cover."

"But not if you get surrounded," he countered.

"Better to lose one member than two," Andrea reasoned, loosing patience. "You sound like Dale. I'll be fine, Rick. There's nothing here."

"Might be a herd comes by if we keep talkin' circles," Shane put in.

"Alright," Rick conceded. "Andrea, you'll provide cover for the front entrance from the bus. Daryl, I want you to find a perch close to the treeline facing the side exit." Rick pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket; the crude map Daisy had drawn up of the layout of the gas station and surrounding area. He nodded to himself. "Right," he continued. "I'll be going in through the front entrance, so I'll escort Andrea to the bus and make my way from there."

Andrea rolled her eyes at that, but otherwise no one had any objections thus far.

"Glen, you'll take the side entrance. Wait at the treeline until you see me, then we move."

Shane already knew where that left him; babysitting Daisy. It was something he and Rick had already discussed. _ "We don't know what we're gonna find in there. Kids could be dead and the last thing we need is a screaming girl. Can I trust you to handle her, Shane?" _

Rick's voice drew Shane back to the present. "Shane and Daisy, I need you two close to Daryl's position and ready to move."

Daisy bit her lip. She didn't care for that part of the plan but she understood why they weren't letting her inside. Daisy had seen her share ugly scenes before, but this time would be different. It would kill her and they knew that. She took a deep breath to settle her thoughts. They would be alive. A walker wouldn't be able to get into the storage room; wouldn't even want to get inside if it couldn't see or smell them.

"They don't know you. They won't trust you," Daisy told Rick and Glen. She reached up to unclasp the locket around her neck. "Here. They know this is mine. Show it to 'em. Tell 'em I'm with you."

Rick gently took the locket from her hand and thanked her. "Glen, you should hold onto this. You're likely to be the one who finds them first. Your door is closest to the storage."

Glen took the delicate necklace from Rick and gave a nod to Daisy.

"Okay," Rick said. "Lets go."


	5. Chapter 5

"See anything?" Rick asked Andrea as they darted across the highway to the yellow school bus.

"No walkers," she responded. "Wait, over there!" Andrea pointed to where a lone walker stumbled out from behind the bus; a young girl. It was as if she had stayed in the place where zombiism had claimed her.

"I'll take care of it," Rick said jogging over to the snarling girl. He slid his knife into the base of her skull, as delicately as the situation allowed. Rick lowered her to the ground and looked into the broken glass of the nearest bus window. Inside was a gory mess. "You best stay here. I'll make sure it's safe for you to set up." Andrea held a hand over her nose to block the stench coming off of the bus, and for once she did not argue.

Inside, the smell was almost enough to gag a person let alone the sight. Bloody limbs stuck out in the aisle. Small bodies layed haphazardly across the seats. Red hand prints smeared the windows, still trying to claw their way free. Broken glass littered the floor and crunched beneath Rick's boots. Rick looked left to right as he walked down the aisle. Children and walkers alike both wore gaping wounds on their foreheads; bullet holes. Rick's brow was creased until he came back to the front of the bus and looked to the driver. He had been too absorbed by the grisly scene further in to notice that the bus driver held a pistol in rigor, his brains splayed out behind him.

"Everyone inside was put down," Rick reported, glad to be outside again. "Looks like the bus was attacked. Driver must have been getting gas, came back, killed the walkers, shot everyone to keep 'em from turning, then did himself in too."

"That's awful," Andrea replied.

Rick nodded. "We best hurry up. Need help?"

"No, I'll hoist myself up the front." Once she was up on the roof of the school bus, Rick dashed back across the highway and looked for Glen along the adjacent treeline. Glen gave a wave and both men started toward their respective entrances, disappearing from each others sight.

As soon as Glen saw Rick return his wave, he skirted along the trees further to his left to face the side door squarely. Glen looked over his shoulder one last time to see Daryl poised in a tree, crossbow at the ready. It eased his tension to know Daryl had his back. For some reason Glen could not shake off a foreboding feeling as he made his way across the gravel parking lot. "Why are you nervous? The sun's out. Walkers aren't around. Shane and Daisy and Daryl got your back. Stop being such a baby. Gonna rescue those kids and get the hell out of here." he muttered to himself under his breath. By the time he was done his self-assuring speech, he was at the door. Glen put his hand on the metal and gave it a tug. It opened like an eager maw ready to feed.

Glen cautiously walked inside the dim hall, pistol leading. A few feet down from him was the thick metal door Daisy had described. Across the way, a bit further down was the door to the store front and at the end of the hall was a washroom, door unhinged. He noted smears of blood on the walls and floor, but no bodies, walker or otherwise.

"Hello? Uh, is anyone here?" Glen called. He moved to the storage room door and pushed it inward. "H-" Before Glen could utter another syllable, his gun was wrenched from his hands, and a pistol fitted with a silencer was in his face. A young boy held the pistol, his face a grim mask of shadows. Glen was about to speak when the click of a revolver being cocked made his words stick in his throat. The cold barrel slowly pressed against the nape of his neck. Rather than speak, Glen raised his hands in surrender and let Daisy's locket dangle from his fingers.

There was a moment of stunned silence as Daisy's brothers looked at the locket with uncomprehending eyes. It seemed to twist elegantly in the air, reflecting the wane light.

"Where did you get that?" Heath asked from behind Glen, gun still against his neck.

"Your sister is safe with us." Rick had slipped silently through the door. His sudden presence had startled even Glen as Heath turned to face the new threat. "You Heath, son?" Rick continued, soothingly, his hands empty and raised in peace. "We aren't here to hurt you. Put the gun down and I'll take you to Daisy. She's just outside helping hold the perimeter."

"If Daisy were here and _safe_, she'd come inside for us herself," Heath accused.

"She wanted to, but we weren't sure you'd still be alive in here. I didn't want her to find her family in shreds," Rick explained.

Glen couldn't take it anymore, "Can you please tell your little brother to put his weapon away?" He had been staring down the barrel for what seemed like an eternity, though in reality it had been a mere two minutes.

Heath stared long and hard at Rick, gauging his character. Rick did not look away.

"Jared." Jared put the gun down but not away. Heath lowered his weapon as well. "Jared, get Tammy. You two," he said referring to Glen and Rick, "lead the way."

"Do you have your things?" Rick asked. "We plan to take you with us unless you have any better options?"

"Jared and Tam got it. Lead."

"I'll lead. Lets just get out of here," said Glen.

Rick slowly walked up to Glen's side, "You alright?" It was rare to see Glen so unnerved.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Glen replied not wanting to explain. "Okay, lets go. She's just in the trees behind the parking lot." Glen looked behind him to Heath. "Where are the other two?" In answer to Glen, the metal door of the storage room slammed shut with a screech.

"They're staying here 'til I see Daisy. Now stop wasting my time and move."


	6. Chapter 6 Part I

Andrea laid down flat against the roof of the bus, a faint stench permeated the air, making it hard to forget what festered beneath her. She had the scope pressed to her eye, watching Rick advance to the gas station, past the pumps and into the broken down door. After he disappeared from sight she took a cursory look around her. Nothing was amiss. Until a lone walker staggered out from the wood behind her. Andrea remained still. It took no note of her or the familiar scent of rot, akin to its own. She debated whether or not to jump down from the bus to put a knife in it's skull. She was about to slip down the front when another walker stumbled after the first. Andrea bit her lip. Two; that was nothing, but the two more after that made four walkers. Andrea slid silently back to her rifle. As long as Rick and the others gave no hint at their presence, the walkers would continue on their meandering way. But luck was not with them today.

The first walker continued straight across the highway and toward the station. Andrea took a deep breath and brought her eye back to the scope, her hands grasping the rifle, finger resting on the trigger. She waited until there was no doubt that the walker meant to enter the station for whatever reason it had, be it instinct or mere chance. "Better safe than sorry," she whispered to herself. She lined up the walker's head and squeezed the trigger. The bullet shot through the air with a sound that would warn Rick and exploded the zombie's head in a colorful spray of red. "That one was past ripe," she mused before turning her attention to the other three walkers. The other walkers had been following the first but now they followed the sound of her rifle as she sent a second to its grave. The others were quick to follow its fellows.

Andrea stood up, looking for walkers who might have been drawn to the sound of her bullets. There was nothing but the sound of another gun.

...

"Why is your boy taking so long?" Daisy asked a few minutes after Glen disappeared within the building. Shane could hear the anxiety edging her voice.

"Settle down. It's fine." Shane didn't care to say much more than that.

Daisy and Shane were crouched down in the midst of a patch of shrubs. The scraggly branches scratched at his skin through his trousers. He looked to Daisy's bare legs, exposed in jean shorts and shook his head.

"If they take much longer, I'm goin' in," Daisy declared.

Shane sighed. "If anybody is goin' in it'll be me or Daryl." He nodded his head in the direction Daryl was in, set up among the branches of a tree, with his crossbow as lookout.

"They're my family. I should be in there already."

"Nah," Shane insisted. "You're my backup. Now shut up before you wake the dead and bring 'em to us." Daisy narrowed her eyes but held her tongue, focusing once more on the side door.

...

Daryl watched Glen go, giving him one last nod of encouragement. _He can feel it too,_ Daryl thought. He shook his head to rid himself of badgering thoughts. It wasn't until everyone had split that an uneasy feeling had crept along Daryl's spine. _What, you're friends leave you and you start acting like a lil bitch? Been too long since_ _I relied on nobody_ _but me._ He cast aside everything but his hunter instincts. He heard the flutter of a bird in the leaves above him, the breeze brushing against the grass. Daryl could smell the faint scent of ripe rot it carried; a putrid corpse, an aged kill or the smell of a walker, it was all the same. He kept alert but the smell left as abruptly as it had come.

Daryl shifted in his tree. A ridiculous notion he had no doubt. He could hear his brother's laughter as if he were right beside him; _Are you a little pussy cat caught up in the tree, Darylina? A grown ass man up in a tree!_ Daryl cursed to himself softly. He had to stop thinking of Merle. He was lost to Daryl. But there were people he could help now if he'd just keep his head focused. A snap of a twig drew Daryl's attention to his left, the direction Daisy and Shane lay in wait. Through green leaves, Daryl saw dark curls bobbing.

"Shane?" Daryl called, voice gentle. When Shane didn't answer him he called out his name again. Now he moved toward his position. A familiar stench assaulted Daryl. And Daryl remembered that Shane had shaved off those dark curls of his. He sighed as the walker moaned, blank eyes looking for Daryl. "Up here, stupid." When it looked up, Daryl sent a quarrel into it's right eye.

...

"Did you hear that?" Daisy asked Shane.

"Hear what?" he asked back. In truth Shane _had_ heard something. It had come somewhere from their right, closer to Daryl's position. But he didn't need to speculate. "Stay here. Don't move and watch your back. I'm gonna check it out." He skirted his way along the treeline, an eye out for Daryl and an eye on the woods that liked to hide secrets.

Shane nearly tripped on the dead walker as he moved through the brush.

"Fuck sakes," Daryl muttered under his breath, lowering his crossbow.

"Got a little close to you. Losing your touch, ranger?" Shane asked.

"Thought it was you 'til I remembered the dumb haircut you gave yourself." Shane smiled at the slight. He could see a tension pulling at the other man. "You fine? That the only one?"

"Yeah, 'course I'm fine. Only almost shot you-"

A sharp sound cut the air.

"Andrea..." Daryl breathed.

Three more rifle shots sounded. "Guess it wasn't the only walker. Stay here. I'm getting Daisy-"

"Ranger," Daryl said by way of warning, throwing the word back at Shane. Shane whirled around and sent a bullet into the approaching walker.


	7. Chapter 6 Part II

T-dog was singing a Michael Jackson tune in his head. Whistling the melody and clapping out the beat quietly. "That's right, MJ. You know how to lay a beat. No bitches and hoes up in here. Too bad." He chuckled to himself. Life was a jigsaw of paranoia, survival and boredom. Who would have thought you'd still get bored with dead people walking the earth?

He began to shimmy with the silent song. Until he heard the sound of gunfire ripping through the air. Bullets meant trouble and trouble meant walkers. It was time to get _Bad_. T brought out his shotgun and placed it across his lap, key ready to be turned in the ignition. He listened for more shots. He heard nothing and relaxed, a minor skirmish. T-dog started tapping out an anxious beat on his knees, then fidgeting with the rear-view mirror. His eyes squinted at the blur moving along the glass. He ran his thumb across the dirt crusted mirror and his eyes popped with disbelief. A man was running down the road, a bright red baseball cap on his head.

T was about to step out and confront the stranger as he made his way toward the truck, but around the bend of the highway a walker showed it's slack-jawed gape. Behind it came others. Dead faces that hungered for the living. T figured there was over a dozen, maybe two. The man in the red cap didn't even look at the truck. He wouldn't have had time to get in and try to get it running, since he never saw T-dog. Instinct took over T-dog and he reached down pulling the lever under the seat and threw himself back to lay flat. He hugged the length of his shotgun against his torso. His hands clenched the fore-end. He took a deep breath then another as the pounding of feet drew closer. T closed his eyes and mouthed a prayer to whatever Gods may have been listening. During those fear filled minutes he could hear the ragged breathing of the man as he passed and then the growls of those who hunted him. A dampness clung to T-dog's brow. When at last the sounds of the undead faded, T-dog waited another solid five minutes until he braved sitting upright. There was no one to see, but much to consider. The highway led straight down to the station; straight down to Rick and the others. _You do what you think's best_, Rick's voice echoed in his head.

...

The next quarrel took a walker through an eye as she tried to scale the front of the bus. Andrea was relieved to see Daryl and Rick. She smashed the end of her rifle into a listless face, squashing a nose. Her efforts were complemented by the sound of Rick's pistol and the click of Daryl's crossbow.

A heartbeat after Andrea had heard the other gun shot across the way, it seemed as if the woods had come alive with the dead. They swarmed from the brush behind her and came down the highway to surround her bus. At least they weren't coming from the direction where T-dog sat with the truck awaiting their return...yet.

The nearest undead turned their attention to the advancing men. With three to one odds in favor of the walkers, the walkers didn't stand a chance. Mottled fingers reached for Daryl as he brought out his knife. He waved it tauntingly in the reaching walker's face. Daryl batted the hands away and rushed in close, bringing the knife in under it's jaw. The sharp tip pierced the thing's brain and it fell limp. A second walker ran in for the kill while Daryl was prying his knife free. It made a sucking noise as it wrenched loose and Daryl brought it up in time to sink in the charging walker's forehead. It's momentum drove the knife hilt deep.

"Hit me with your best shot, bitch," Daryl muttered.

Rick let a second bullet rip into a walker's head and bury into the next's shoulder. The latter walker turned to face the hunk of flesh who had shot him. Rick killed it just as quickly as he had his buddy. On the bus roof top, Andrea pushed a walker down to the hard cement. Rick let Daryl plunge his knife in it's skull while he went to the front of the bus. He gathered a fistful of the nearest undead's shirt and heaved him off the school bus. Rick brought his boot down on the snarling face, creating a bloody slush. Andrea let the last rotting walker taste her rifle's seed.

...

"Hurry your asses up!" Shane ordered with his customary courtesy. "Daryl says there's walkers coming down the highway. So we'll stick to the trees but our best chance is to move fast."

Glen walked up beside Shane and softly asked, so as to avoid Daisy and the others hearing, "If the walkers are coming down the highway, doesn't that mean they would have had to pass T-dog and the truck? Maybe we shouldn't be going this way."

"Then where do you suggest?" Shane hissed. "Walkers are coming from all directions. And if anything happened to T, well the truck should be fine."

"But what if he had to take the truck? We could be heading into a horde and stranded-"

"You best shut your mouth before them kids hear you. We need to stay calm and keep moving. If need be we can walk and fight our way back to the farm. She did it, remember?" Shane jerked his head in Daisy's direction.

"Right, sorry," Glen apologized halfheartedly. He slipped to the back of the group to help Heath guard the rear. Jared and Tammy were side by side in the mid of the group with Daisy. Shane in lead.

After Daisy had crushed her siblings in a tight hug, all four of them huddled together, Shane and Glen had lead them away from the gas station and back into the woods. Leaving behind them the sounds of gun fire from Rick and Andrea. It didn't feel good to leave them and Daryl behind, but Glen had learned to have faith in his companions' skills. Everyone had their place and the whole would fail if they didn't each perform their part.

Daisy heard a dozen sounds that made her head spin from this direction to that. She had her family back and now they were on a mad dash toward safety. To Daisy, every bush was liable to be hiding a threat to her siblings. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. The young woman walked up to Shane, anxious for any kind of reassurance, even his rough sort.

"If our best chance is to move quickly, shouldn't we be runnin' or somethin'?" Daisy asked.

"No. I don' need a bunch of kids stumbling over branches and making more noise than necessary. Besides, we ought to keep our energy for when the walkers actually find us."

Daisy was not comforted by his words in the least. _When_, she thought, _not if_.


	8. Chapter 7

Daisy held her bow pointed at the ground with an arrow fitted to the string, ready to be used. When Rick had offered her one of their guns, she had politely refused. Archery had been a past time of hers and now she used it to preserve life as surely as she took it. Daisy had more experience with the bow than guns and she trusted that experience more. Besides, she could make more arrows whereas bullets were limited. That's why each of her siblings always kept a secondary weapon. Heath held a machete at his waist much like she had carried her shotgun. Jared carried a hunting knife in his belt and Tammy a switch blade.

"Shane, we ain't novices. We've been survivin' out here just as long as you. You make more noise than me and mine combined," Daisy pointed out.

Shane's lips curved into a smile. He faced her then. "Being as_ me and mine_ are saving you and yours right now," he mimicked, "you just keep pace and keep those big eyes open."

"Hey," Heath called, "there a problem?" His eyes narrowed dangerously at Shane.

"Do you smell that?" asked Tammy, breaking the tension. The breeze carried the scent of walkers nearby, an earthy smell like rotting meat.

"It's fine, Heath. We just need to move faster," Daisy said. To her appeasement, Shane moved at a brisk walk. But it seemed to all that the smell of the dead strengthened with each step.

Shane stopped suddenly and held out a fist to signal the others to stop as well. "We're walkin' right into them," he said in a hushed voice to Daisy and the others.

"There," Jared pointed with a finger. "To the left."

Shane turned to look where the boy had indicated. He could see the leading walker break through the brush. And hear the excited moans of the eternally hungry. "Well, that ain't no good," he said lamely when he saw the size of the group. "Now we run."

They didn't get a dozen strides before two walkers appeared directly in their path and cut them short. Shane bulled right into one and brought a fist down to smash its head in. Daisy let the other chew on her arrow. Even those few seconds cost them dearly; their meager lead was forfeit. The walkers from the left closed ranks like a pack of rapid hounds. Shane shot one from his knees seconds before Heath fired his first shot. Jared brought out his pistol, fitted with a silencer and Tammy took up the 10mm.

"Try not to shoot me this time," Jared told Tam as she took aim. Daisy had to smile in spite of the circumstances. The first time Tammy had been given a gun, no one had had time amidst the chaos to teach her how to use it. When the press of zombies became too thick she was forced to fire. Her first shot missed completely and panicking, her second shot had ended up grazing Jared's shoulder. Luckily, it had never happened again.

Glen managed to give the two younger siblings a queer look before he too had to take aim. During the first few minutes it seemed as if they had fretted over nothing. The walkers came and died. But then others started catching up from behind and swarming their right flank. Jared was the first to run out of ammo. He grasped his hunting knife and began delivering quick short thrusts into glazed eye sockets. Glen shortly ran out of ammunition thereafter and followed Jared's lead.

"We need to break off," Shane shouted. "They're coming at us from too many directions. And we're only drawing in more staying in one place."

Daisy calmly let fly arrow after arrow. Her fingers worked fervently. String draw loose string draw loose.

"Glen, take the young-uns and run for the farm!" Shane yelled. "We'll hold these biters off!"

"What about the truck?" Glen shouted back between stabs.

"Most of these things are coming from the highway! Go!"

"I can stay," Jared started to insist.

"Go with him and keep Tammy safe, Jared," Daisy ordered. He gave her a defiant look but nodded.

At the first respite, Glen took Jared and Tammy through the trees and ran in the direction of the farm.

"Form up, crew," Shane said to Daisy and Heath.

Daisy slowly inched her way backward as she continued to loose arrows on the walking dead.

"I'm almost out," she reported calmly.

"As soon as your brother gets his ass back here, we run for it," Shane replied with a look of determination locked on his face.

Heath unloaded his gun on a trio of over-zealous walkers. He turned to join Shane and Daisy, not realizing their was a fourth member of the group lagging close behind the others.

"Heath!" Daisy yelled as it launched itself at her brother's back. He whirled around in time to catch its clamping jaws with his hands. They fell in a tumble in the leaf-strewn dirt. Heath grunted as he felt the teeth sink into his finger.

Daisy felt a knife of anxiety stab her in the gut and twist with a flourish. She consciously took one breath in and let it out as she concentrated on keeping the other walkers at bay. She heard Shane curse in frustration as he took aim at the walker locked in a wrestling match for her brother's life. Shane was about to put a bullet in the back of its head when Heath threw a bloody left hook and rolled atop it. He groped in the dirt until his hand came upon a rock. He promptly raised it and brought it down with infuriated strength.

Heath rose to his feet in stinted victory. His hand dripped bloody where the walker had savaged his ring finger. Without a moment's hesitation, Heath braced his finger against a tree and unsheathed the machete strapped to his waist. Heath brought the machete down in a swift flash of silver.

Daisy watched in grim resignation. Her brother made no sound other than a sharp intake of air. He slumped against the tree as Shane ran to him. Heath slid the machete back in place while Shane placed an arm around him for support. She loosed her last arrow as the two men shambled past her.

"I'm out."

"So am I," Shane confessed.

...

"Bud, I just saw you chop off your own finger without flinching, but I'm gonna need you to run now," Shane addressed Heath flatly.

Heath grunted and ran alongside Shane as asked. Daisy followed just behind with a steak knife she'd taken on a last minute impulse from Hershel's kitchen. At least it had a full tang.

It was as if a whole sea of dead had awakened to take pursuit, but God be good, the way ahead stayed relatively clear for the trio. And when it didn't, another blessing answered their silent prayers.


End file.
